oceansunrise01bcompMany things happen at the edge. At the edge of our awareness. At the edge of our thinking. The edge is a place where things can be a bit fuzzy. In ecological terms ecotones, the edge of two ecosystems, is often a place of species richness, of variety.

To feel into my edge, to concretely connect to nature, (as opposed to talking about it) I woke early to experience the sunrise on a Sydney beach. The seashore is an elemental meeting place of earth and water. It is a place of shifting patterns, and a place to meditate on some of the meanings of the interaction of different forms, of fuzzy edges, of loose boundaries. Where do I begin, where does the other begin? Do I have hard or permeable boundaries? When do I choose to let others in?

The seashore fascinates me. It is the place where ancestral beginnings tug on my memories, with recurrent rhythms of tides and surf. And the vastness of the ocean overwhelms the sense of my own importance, reinstalls my sense that I am just one part in this great cosmos. The horizon, as a place where sky and ocean meet, beckons as a doorway of possibility.

I see the Sun rise out of the depths of the ocean to greet the world once again. New beginnings. New dreams being created. I watch the Sun peek over the horizon, as it starts to colour the sky. I am excited. I am filled with awe. I am captured by this moment. What a simple ritual to connect more deeply to the rhythms of this earth, and this particular place.

I am reminded of what a Huichol shaman Matsuwa said in the book  Shamanic Voices by Joan Halifax:

“we have forgotten our life source, the sun, and the sacred sea, the blessed land, the sky, and all things of nature.” He warned us, “you are not getting (your) love up to the sun, out to the ocean, and into the earth.  When you do. . . (it) brings life force into you.”

The sparkles on the face of the ocean capture my attention, as does all the ways in which the watery domain expresses itself – froth, bubbles, movement. All separate, but all part of the whole. Each drop has its own existence, but only for a while, and when it forms a wave its existence is as part of the greater whole.

My body hears the drumming of the waves, the way in which the ocean scrapes its watery fingers across the sand. This place is full of great compositions of art, music, drama and life.

The edge here is magnificent – the edge of solidity, the edge of watery. I stand between both, on the edge.